


the wide white stairs

by ashellthatsings



Series: through the rest of my life [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 08:53:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13760598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashellthatsings/pseuds/ashellthatsings
Summary: Halamshiral is different if you're not the Inquisitor.





	the wide white stairs

Halamshiral was beautiful.  Evelyn had been brought along as part of the Inquisition delegation, to “class up” the group considering the Inquisitor brought Bull, Sera, and Solas.  Turned out being disowned from a prominent Marcher family was good for at least one thing, she still had enough social cache to flatter Orlesians.  

Her good manners helped, of course.  As did her being proof of mages existing who were not wild or strange like the mages the Orlesians’ had seen.  Vivienne had seemed like an exception to the rule, and Evelyn was there to prove that the rule was flawed.  

But Maker, she hated it.  

All the talking and gossiping felt like the worst parts of being at the Circle, and when Leliana asked that she stay in one place to make sure the Inquisition had agents in all areas of the castle, she almost felt relieved.  People would have to come to her to talk, rather than her go to them.  She could see Cullen across the ballroom even after the assassination plot had been resolved, looking almost as miserable as she felt, surrounded by admirers and gawkers alike.  

She thought for a moment that she should be jealous, but all she could really feel was pity mixed with an ounce of laughter, as she knew better than almost anyone that Cullen would rather be anywhere but there.  

“What does the Inquisition believe should be the future of mage rights?” some pompous oaf in a mask asked her, forcing her to look away from Cullen.  While she answered, she found herself still glancing at Cullen’s place, and then was startled to see he’d left.  

“The main goal of the Inquisition is to defeat Corypheus, and the rest can keep for after that,” she said, and felt a hand on her arm.  She turned, and there was Cullen, holding out a hand to her.  

“I’m afraid I must steal you away to speak of Inquisition business.  My apologies messeres,” he said, and she took his arm gladly and let him lead her into a near-empty hallway, where he looked around carefully and then relaxed.  

“Dear Commander,” Evelyn asked, grinning.  “Did you make up Inquisition business to escape the ballroom?”  

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly.  “You seemed like you might need rescuing.” 

She squeezed his hand lightly, careful to not overstep the bounds of their new relationship.  Kissing him on the battlements was one thing, kissing him where people were watching and waiting for gossip to spread was another.  

“My knight in shining armor,” she said, still smiling.  “If I had had to explain the Inquisition’s position on mages one more time I might have insulted someone’s mask on purpose rather than just accidentally.” 

“Well, you are a foreigner all the way from Ostwick who is friends with a Ferelden and a Tevinter.”

“Are you saying I lack manners, Commander Rutherford?” she asked with the corner of her mouth raised, and he laughed. 

“There is a balcony with a wonderful view a little ways away.  Could I interest you in some fresh air?” 

She nodded, and took his arm, and they both tried all the more to seem as though they were speaking of work rather than reveling in the nearness of the other.  

“I should have asked you to dance,” he said after a moment of casual silence.  “I cannot dance, but I should have asked.” 

Evelyn shook her head, and smiled demurely at the people they passed.  It wasn’t until they reached the balcony and had shut the door that she let herself respond. 

“I cannot dance either,” she said as he checked for potential eavesdroppers.  “But you could still ask.  I can still hear the music.”  

And satisfied with their privacy, Cullen bowed.  “May I have this dance, milady?”

Evelyn blushed and took his hand, and let herself stay one step closer to him while they danced than propriety would demand.  The dance itself was nothing remarkable, as neither of them were lying when they said that they could not dance.  But if someone could have seen, and as Dorian would describe it later despite not being there, it was a more tender dance than any others at that ball, and there was a real affection between the partners that was somehow untarnished by the gore and war of the evening.  And if someone could have heard, they would have heard Cullen quietly whisper to Evelyn that he loved her and her whisper back that she loved him.  

Unlike many things said that night, those two things were true. 

 

The next morning, Evelyn woke to a soft knock at the door, and her hand immediately flew to her hair, pushing it out of her eyes.  And after a moment, when she pulled a robe on over her nightgown, she opened the door a crack, revealing Cullen on the other side, fully dressed and looking like he’d been awake for hours despite the late night.  

“We’re leaving in three hours, and I wanted to make sure that you were up.  And that you could have breakfast,” he said, and she looked to see that he was carrying a tray with two breakfasts on it.  So she opened the door the rest of the way, and let him in.  

She was perched on the bed and he was sitting in the chair beside her, with the tray balanced between them.  

“I miss Skyhold,” she said after a moment, and he looked up at her questioningly.  “I like not worrying about when and where I can hold your hand.”  

He smiled at that, and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.  

“The Winter Palace has its good sides,” he said, and Evelyn waited for the punchline she knew was coming.  And of course, with a sly smile, he continued.  “There’s no hole in this roof.”  

She grinned at him as she grabbed a piece of toast off of the tray. “No, because Orlesians understand how roofs work, and that they’re meant to keep snow off of people’s beds.”

“Is this when I am meant to agree to get my roof fixed?” 

Evelyn shook her head, and finished chewing and swallowing the toast.  “This is when the hero- which I believe is you, says to the heroine- me, that he would be fine with her putting a blanket in his office for her to use against the cold when they had lunch together.” 

Cullen chuckled, and nodded, and opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a knock and the door opening.

“Commander, the Lady Seeker is asking for you,” one of Leliana’s scouts said, to which Cullen responded with a nod, stood up, and the door closed again.  

“Are you riding with Dorian?” he asked Evelyn, to which she shrugged.  

“I’ve been assigned a horse, but not a place in the parade.”

“It isn’t a parade, dear, it’s a travelling party.  You could ride near me.”

And the shy smile on his face settled her decision, and she stood up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“That would be nice,” she said, and Cullen squeezed her arm lightly. 

“You look lovely today,” he said, and she kissed him softly.  When she pulled back, she could see his face turning pink, and one of her favorite looks on his face, like he was incandescently happy.  

“Go help Cassandra.  I’ll see you in an hour.”  And with one last glance and smile, he did, leaving her to smile to herself and pack up the rest of her things.  

**Author's Note:**

> title, as with the rest of the series, from Joanna Newsom's "Sawdust and Diamonds"


End file.
